


A Simple Request

by Bloodsbane



Series: A MarTim Collection [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Casual Sex, Dom Martin, Face-Sitting, Fluff and Humor, Friends With Benefits, Kink Negotiation, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Scent Kink, Teasing, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Vaginal Fingering, sub tim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:27:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23136916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloodsbane/pseuds/Bloodsbane
Summary: Lately, Tim has been feeling restless. He’s working on a really intense, very compelling project at work, not to mention Danny is coming home from a two month long backpacking trip out of the country. Between his current passion project and his future plans, Tim can barely contain himself, so energetic that his coworkers have started teasing him for it. The last week or so, Tim has felt like he needs some sort of outlet, or something to step in and just remind him how tosit still.Then he remembered Martin.---Tim is interested in seeing a more dominant side of Martin.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Tim Stoker
Series: A MarTim Collection [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1696567
Comments: 10
Kudos: 242





	A Simple Request

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a direct sequel to [A Friendly Favor!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22671127) Reading the first one really isn't required to enjoy this one, but if you'd like some backstory/context for the world and the boys' relationship, def check it out~ 
> 
> Some additional CWs:
> 
> > trans!martin; he's had top-surgery, but isn't taking hormones  
> > this fic uses clit/pussy for martin  
> 
> 
> and one again, special thanks to zykaben for beta reading~

Tim means to wait, really. He and Martin have only just started seeing each other on a regular basis again. Sure, they used to have sex fairly often, but the months between then and now had been significant enough. Lots of little things were different, and not just outside of the bedroom.

At least so far, the couple of times they’ve had sex (and not every visit ends in sex, which is more than fine with Tim), things have been pretty similar to how they were before. Martin has thrown one or two curve balls his way, but they were small things, and didn’t really upset their usual dynamic. For the most part, Tim plays the more active role, Martin receives his attentions with a smile and lots of gratitude, and all is as it should be. 

Lately, though, Tim has been feeling restless. He’s working on a really intense, very compelling project at work, not to mention Danny is coming home from a two month long backpacking trip out of the country. Between his current passion project and his future plans, Tim can barely contain himself, so energetic that his coworkers have started teasing him for it. The last week or so, Tim has felt like he needs some sort of outlet, or something to step in and just remind him how to _sit still._

Then he remembered Martin. 

But it’s such a shift from the norm, and they’ve never talked about something like that before, so Tim plans on waiting. He plans on talking about it beforehand, rather than springing it on Martin. That’s what he plans on doing, really.

So how has it turned out this way, with him half in Martin’s lap, five minutes into a makeout session, totally unable to get the thought out of his head? All he can think about is how big and warm Martin’s hands are; they’ve long since snuck up into Tim’s shirt and are toying with his nipples. All the deep rumbling noises Martin keeps making… Tim can feel them vibrating through his sternum into his ribs and down his spine. His head is filled with thoughts of Martin taking the lead, rolling them over until he’s on top of Tim, covering him, telling him what to do… 

With some strange cocktail of reluctance and desperation, Tim pulls away. Martin makes a questioning sound, his thumbs pausing beneath Tim’s shirt. “Something up?”

“I just…” Tim takes a deep breath, trying not to laugh and failing. “Shit. Okay, listen, I’ve got a sort of proposition for you.”

“Oh?” Martin brushes his bangs from his face, looking at Tim with an honest curiosity. Tim, unable to help himself, kisses his cheek before he continues. 

“You know how sometimes, when we do it, you like it when I call you names?”

He can feel Martin’s blush beneath his lips. “Heh, y-yeah. What about it?” 

“So you like it when I’m mean to you. Sometimes. Like calling you a slut or pulling your hair, stuff like that.”

“S-sure?” 

“Well… d’you think maybe you could try that? I mean, do that for me?” Tim pulls back enough to see Martin’s expression as he asks. Taking in his friend’s surprised look, Tim continues on to say, “It doesn’t have to be anything super intense - just boss me around a little! You’ve never done that for me, and I’ve been curious. I wanna try it.”

“Oh! Um… Hm.”

“Don’t have to if you’re not keen on the idea,” Tim says. “I’d just really like it.”

“Really?”

“Sure! I like bossy Martin!”

Martin makes a self-conscious huffing sound, smiling. “When am I ever bossy?”

“Oh, you can be bossy,” Tim says, his voice heavy with certainty. “How many times have you slapped my hands away from the cookie tin? Or stepped in when I’m making tea-”

“You never make it right!”

“Well yeah, and heaven knows I’m not complaining! I’d never have a decent pot of the stuff if you stopped doing it. I’m just telling you that it happens. And that’s not even mentioning the way you can be when you’re really tired. I’ve lost count of how many times you’ve shoved me out of bed to brush my teeth in the morning or bullied me into going to sleep instead of working-”

“Okay, okay! I get it! I’m a terror.”

Tim gives him a look, but Martin is smiling, so he smiles back. “I’m just saying, it’s not like you _can’t_ do it. You took the lead well enough that other time, remember? When you asked me to help you out?”

With a blush, Martin attempts to wave him off. “That was different.” 

Tim shrugs. “Maybe there were extenuating circumstances, if you wanna call ‘em that. Whatever the case, I think you’d be really good at capturing that again. Just a matter of whether you wanna try, yeah?”

Martin sits quietly for a moment, eyes drifting off to the ceiling as he thinks it over. Tim climbs off his lap and sits on the other end of the couch. It’s better to give Martin a good amount of space when he’s considering something seriously. Tim sends a silent apology to his dick, already half-hard and very unhappy with the abrupt pause in their fun. 

After a minute, Martin sits up straight and looks right at Tim. He’s got that dark look in his eyes again; Tim is instantly alert, matching Martin’s posture with a grin. “So?”

“We’ll use the usual colors, okay? And you promise you’ll tell me if I- if I say something that’s too mean?”

“I seriously doubt you will,” Tim reassures him, “but yeah, of course!” 

“Is there anything you definitely don’t want me to do?”

Tim tries to come up with something, then shrugs helplessly. “I’m fine with most. Don’t think there’s anything that’d come up, with you, that I’d need to establish as a big no-no.” 

“You sure?”

“Maybe don’t slap me? Not that you would.”

Martin is already shaking his head. “Of course not.” 

Tim gives him a dirty smirk, waggling his eyebrows. “I mean, ‘least not _this_ time. Might like getting knocked around a bit later-” 

“Tim!”

“What! Look, I’ve been spanked before, and it’s surprisingly fun-”

Martin actually _shudders_. “How can being spanked feel any good?” 

Tim hastily waves that topic off. “Forget it, we don’t gotta worry about it now! Look, here’s what’s definitely on the table: name-calling - anything I’ve called you before is more than fine; edging; hair-pulling; manhandling; ordering me around however you like. Uh, I think that’s it really? We can figure it out as we go.” 

Arms crossed, Martin gives him a critical look. “You really want this?”

“Hell yeah!”

“I just- I dunno if I’ll be any good at it.”

Tim scooches closer, just enough to put a hand on Martin’s shoulder. “You’ll be fine. It’s not too hard to get into the swing of it. And I’ll super into it, promise! So don’t worry ‘bout feeling embarrassed or whatever. Just figure out what works for you and lean into it.” 

“...Okay. Okay, we can try,” Martin says. Then he stands and looks down at Tim, his expression cloudy with calculation, and Tim gets the feeling that his night has taken a wonderful turn.

For a while, Martin merely watches Tim, thinking. Once he glances at the kitchen; twice the bedroom. 

Then he says, “I think… I want you on the floor. Can you get on your knees?” 

Tim’s on the carpet in an instant. “Yes, sir,” he says, voice deep with appreciation, anticipation. Oh, he likes this already.

Martin offers a fleeting smile, then his expression becomes distant as he gazes into the kitchen. “I’m going to make us- myself some tea,” he says, “so just stay there. I’ll be back; you can call a color if it hurts, sitting like that too long.”

And then he leaves. Tim watches him go, vaguely surprised, but willing to follow the simple order. He adjusts his position just slightly, so his weight isn’t so heavy on his ankles, then waits. 

From where he sits, the couch is blocking his view of the kitchen, but he can still see the fluorescent lights filling it with a clear yellow light. He hears Martin’s swift, precise movements; there’s no dawdling with him when it comes to tea. Sometimes, Martin seems to make it without any thought at all, holding an entire conversation with Tim while he measures sugar and adds the little extra fixings he keeps at the ready on his counter top. Tim wonders if Martin could make tea in his sleep, then chuckles - he definitely could. 

“Hey Martin,” he calls, and when Martin loudly hums to let Tim know he’s got his attention, the man continues, “Do you already have an idea of what you’re gonna do to me? Maybe you should tell me - you love when I do that, don’t you? Telling you every little detail so you get worked up imagining it? Not that you have to… Surprises are good, too.” 

Martin’s quiet for a few seconds. Then Tim hears him say, “I don’t think it’s really necessary that you talk right now. Try to stay quiet? I’ll be back in a minute; I’m sure you can handle a bit of silence until I get back.”

...Well! Now Tim really was surprised. He keeps his mouth shut, wondering at Martin’s tone; it’s not really so different from the way he usually speaks. And the way he’s phrasing things… It’s not _im_ polite. But something about it -- maybe just the context -- makes his simple comments and requests sound more like commands. And- and something about them feels condescending. Tim laughs under his breath; he _likes_ it. 

When Martin comes back, he has only one mug, carried atop a plush coaster. Martin stands there for a moment, blowing on his tea and watching Tim, who has not moved an inch. Then Martin goes to sit in the lone chair a few feet away from Tim. “Come over here,” he says, and it sounds like a sweet request, but Tim knows it’s not. He starts to stand - stops when Martin says, “No, no. Stay on the ground. You can crawl, if you like, so your knees don’t hurt too much.” 

Tim does blush at this. Huh, he’s never actually been told to crawl before. Something about it is embarrassing in the simplest of ways, but Tim swallows his pride and does as he’s told. Though, he can’t help muttering, “Getting a bit kinky now, aren’t we?” as he settles before Martin’s knees. The man raises a brow, and Tim wonders what Martin will do, now that he’s broken the not-order of keeping quiet. “Looks like we’ve flipped a switch, huh Marto?” 

Martin snorts at the nickname, and Tim lets himself chuckle. It’s a silly one, originally given by Sasha, though Tim helped keep it alive. For the longest time he wasn’t sure if Martin genuinely disliked it, but he never seemed too put out when they teased him with it. Now he just thinks it’s funny. But the tiny smile that Tim lured onto his face is swiftly gone, replaced with a smirk. “Do you really want to start discussing our kinks, Tim?”

“I thought that was obvious!” Tim says, smiling despite a little alarm bell sounding in the back of his head. He’s too distracted by Martin’s tone and the way it’s going straight to his dick. “Wasn’t I saying earlier that it’d be a fun idea for you to-”

“Wasn’t I saying earlier that talking isn’t really necessary?” Martin interrupts, and that shuts Tim up right away. Martin never interrupts. 

He’s still holding the tea. Tim watches Martin take a sip, their eyes never breaking contact. Martin isn’t… he’s not posturing, exactly, like the other doms Tim has been with. Usually there’s a lot more intimidating body language, purposeful shifts in tone, deliberate word choices or actions. But Martin seems almost casual, and nothing about him really suggests that he’s doing anything other than talking to Tim like normal. And yet. Tim could not be more aware of where he is now: kneeling in front of Martin, watching him watch Tim, smelling tea that’s sweet and rich, feeling absolutely pinned to the floor. 

Then Martin spreads his knees apart, and Tim blushes as he catches a glimpse of Martin’s underwear through the leg hole of his shorts. They aren’t damp, not yet, but Tim realizes he’s unconsciously shuffling closer, because- because he can _smell_ it, Martin’s arousal. 

“If you really want to chat about interesting kinks,” Martin says, his voice light even as he spreads his legs further, coaxing Tim to drift between his thighs, “then what about this one of yours, Tim?” 

Tim swallows, trying to laugh, but it comes out more like a weak little gasp. They’ve never really, properly addressed the scent kink. There’s no doubt that Tim isn’t especially subtle about having it… It’s honestly a huge reason why he can come untouched just from giving Martin oral. That heavy, musky, sweet smell that overrides Tim’s senses and drives him crazy every time. 

So, sure, Tim’s not exactly surprised that Martin picked up on it… The fact that he’s using it now, though, pointedly calling Tim out for it to tease him… It’s somehow the best and worse outcome that Tim could possibly imagine. 

“Go on, then, if you like,” Martin says, and Tim decides he _would_ like very much, thank you. With only a faint simmer of embarrassment, he presses his nose into Martin’s crotch and takes a deep breath, letting the smell turn him on, make him hotter. It smells like a promise, like sex, like Martin at his most trusting and most vulnerable. It’s intoxicating and Tim barely hears the sounds Martin makes as he nuzzles into it.

His enthusiasm must catch Martin off guard, because soon there’s a hand in his hair, tugging him away. “Okay, okay,” Martin laughs gently, sounding a bit breathless. 

“You smell delicious,” Tim can’t help but say, feeling fuzzy-headed with indulgence. 

_“Tim.”_

“You’re the one dragging my embarrassing kinks into broad daylight! If you don’t want me to faun over how the smell of you makes me wanna-”

Tim’s cut off by a finger on his lips and a fondly exasperated expression on Martin’s face. “Here, I’ve got an idea,” he says, gesturing for Tim to scooch back a bit. 

Tim watches as Martin stands. After reaching over to place his empty mug on a nearby table, Martin swiftly removes his bottoms. Soon enough he’s seated once again before Tim, bare this time. Tim can smell him more easily, and he can see the faint, glistening slick waiting for him there. He licks his lips. He barely notices Martin’s fingers lacing through his short, dark hair. 

“Let’s put that mouth of yours to use, alright? That should help.” 

Tim doesn’t resist the tugging, simply lets Martin pull his head between the other man’s legs. Martin’s soft thighs brush his cheeks. All around him is warmth, and before him is soft brown hair and slick pink folds. Tim at least has the decency to attempt being subtle, drinking in the smell of Martin as he uses his fingers to gently pry apart his folds. He can feel the heat before his mouth finds it, drawing a small, lovely gasp from Martin’s lips. 

This, Tim has done plenty, and he slips into the familiar motions of eating out his friend with ease. Tongue sliding down, he laps at Martin’s entrance but never dips inside. One fingertip wanders up to find Martin’s clit, giving it light attention as Tim continues his work. Above, it sounds like Martin is trying his best not to be loud, biting back every sound. Only his quick, heavy breathes betray his enjoyment. 

Far too soon, Martin is making a noise of vague, desperate displeasure. “Okay, I-” Martin pulls Tim’s head away as he tries to catch his breath. “I think. Bed. Go lie down on the bed.” 

Tim is up on his feet and down the hallway so fast, he hears Martin make a noise of surprise behind him. But his mind is on Martin’s order, eager to please and aroused as all hell. Why on earth hadn’t he thought of this sooner?

Martin’s bed is a little messy, and Tim finishes the job of kicking off the rest of the comforter until there’s only sheets. He has a feeling things are going to get a little messy; not only that, but he doubts Martin is going to be up for doing too much laundry once they’ve finished. 

Pulling over a pillow, Tim props up his head and lays down. Martin enters the room, carrying his pants and briefs in one hand. He tosses them into the hamper on his way to the bed, never once looking away from Tim’s face. And yet, he pauses at the side of the bed. Tim nearly starts complaining, if only to encourage Martin to shut him up quickly, but his companion starts first. 

“I’ve decided I’m going to sit on your face,” says Martin, and Tim really has to close his eyes right then. God, yes. He feels himself twitch in his jeans just thinking about it. Then Martin brings a hand to his thigh, resting right by his cock, and Tim is terrified he’s going to come before he’s even taken them off. 

“I want you to take your clothes off,” Martin says. “All of them, if that sounds good to you.”

“Hell yeah it does,” Tim pants.

While he’s flinging articles of clothing across the room, Martin continues. “Stay on your back. close to the headboard. You’ll have to change the pillow a bit, for your neck-”

“Got it.” Tim does as he’s told, scooting a little until he’s in the proper position. They’ve done this before, but every instance feels like the very first time… It’s super corny, but Tim really loves it that much. Being trapped between Martin’s soft, thick thighs…

“Tim? Tim, are you listening to me?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry, I was thinking about it,” Tim admits, grinning. “As you can see, I’m very excited for it.”

Martin glances at his very erect dick and rolls his eyes, though he’s blushing too. “Yes, yes, but this is the important part! Listen up.”

“Yes, sir!” 

The blush intensifies, “God,” Martin mutters, then shakes his head. When he looks at Tim again, it’s with an earnest authority that Tim knows he needs to take seriously. “You’re going to get me off first, alright? And you can come after. But no touching until I’m through.” 

Tim’s brows raised in surprise. “What?”

“You can’t touch yourself,” Martin explains. “I’d rather you didn’t, anyway. Is that- I mean, do you have a problem with that?” 

Tim makes himself think it over. He’s already really riled up, and the idea of not being allowed to touch at all while he’s eating out Martin is- unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome. 

“Whatever you say,” Tim tells him, smiling, and then looks purposefully desperate. “It’ll be hard, but I can do it, promise! Just help me keep my mind off it, won’t you Martin?” 

With a chuckle, Martin finally climbs onto the bed. He takes a moment, once he’s straddled Tim’s waist, to deliver a swift kiss. Tim hums in appreciation and tries to enjoy it before Martin begins to pull away. As their lips part, he feels Martin’s hand move up one of his arms until it’s resting on his collarbone, near the shoulder.

Tim feels another kiss fall on his cheek, and then he hears Martin whisper, “Remember what I said, Tim. Me first.”

Tim doesn’t answer -- he doesn’t get the chance. Martin leans back, putting a fair amount of weight onto the hand he’s got on Tim, pinning the man down. Then he’s grabbing the headboard with his free hand and shuffling until Tim’s head is surrounded. The wet heat presses up against his chin, and Tim is quick to adjust himself so that his mouth is settled right up against those folds once more. Martin’s thighs encase either side of his head, pushing up against the pillow slightly. The hand that had been on Tim’s collarbone is now gripping his hair, softly, as Martin makes tiny adjustments to their positions until he’s comfortable. 

Tim wastes no time, resuming his earlier business as if there had been no pause. Eyes closed, Tim lets himself dissolve into the soft cloud of arousal to appreciate every sensation: the taste of Martin in his mouth, the feel of his soft, curly pubic hair against Tim’s cheek, the almost imperceptible rocking motion of Martin’s hips. The man is already making noises again, not so interested now in keeping them back. Each little gasp and hungry whine makes Tim moan and squirm. At one point he catches himself trying to rub his thighs together for friction, and it takes a few seconds of focus before he has them spread open, as far from his dick as possible. He can feel how heavy and hot it is, can feel himself starting to leak at the tip. He wants nothing more than to touch himself, or even better, have Martin touch him. Any part of him would be good! Hands, thighs, mouth, pussy. Tim aches for every inch of him, greedy even now, hidden beneath the shadow of his stomach and pillowed between his thighs. 

In no time at all, Martin's grip in Tim's hair becomes firm, almost rough. Tim feels himself being held still while Martin rolls his hips. Each shuddering gasp from above only makes Tim suck harder, reducing Martin's voice unto a broken mess. "Yes," he moans, "Tim, I- Close, close-"

Somehow, Tim works his right hand beneath Martin, scrambling half-blind with desperate anticipation. He manages to move them both just enough so that his ring and middle fingers are able to slip into that hot, dripping hole. Martin lets out a loud moan, and Tim can feel him pressing in from every angle, clutching Tim in every way. 

Resisting the urge to simply close his eyes and let himself be smothered into oblivion (which sounds like an ideal way to die), Tim makes himself refocus on his task. Wiggling his fingers just a bit deeper, Tim gets them settled into a familiar spot. Then, pressing his tongue flat over Martin's clit, applying warm and even pressure, he then curls his fingers and thrusts in quick, short motions. 

Martin moans once, loudly, choking on an expletive as he comes. Tim keeps fingering him all throughout his orgasm, though he can't resist replacing his tongue with his thumb and letting his mouth slide down again. He drinks it all in until Martin makes a weak, keening sound. 

In a surprisingly fluid move, Martin pulls himself off Tim. As he falls onto the bed, he lifts a hand to cradle Tim's face, until they're looking at each other. "Your turn," Martin whispers. Tim's hands are on his cock before Martin can say, "Finish."

He does, of course, immediately follow the order.

…

Later, after they've both forced themselves to take a shower, Martin flicks off the bedroom light and asks, "Was all that okay?" 

"Oh fuck yeah." Tim is lying on the bed, spread eagle. He's dressed entirely in borrowed clothes, and Martin's scent lingers all around. He definitely died earlier, smothered by Martin's soft body, and now he's in heaven.

Said angel of death laughs at Tim's dreamy tone. Tim's eyes are closed, but he feels the bed dip as Martin settles in next to him. The man rests his chin on Tim's shoulder. "No, seriously! I mean, I wasn't too bossy, was I?" 

"Martin."

"Nothing I did was, I dunno, too mean or something?"

Tim turns onto his side, curling up around Martin and pulling him close. "You were super duper not mean or too bossy, I promise."

"Really?"

"Really. If you couldn't tell, I quite liked it!"

He hears Martin laugh in the dark. "Yeah, okay. Just- just making sure."

After a few seconds of easy silence, Tim asks, "How was it for you?"

"Hm?"

"Being more dominant," Tim explains. "I personally think you did an amazing job and were hella sexy-"

"Oh my god."

"But what about you? Have fun?"

Martin thinks it over. "Yeah, actually. It was, um, a little weird at first. I didn't know how… how firm I should be? Or what to say, exactly."

"Obviously had some idea how to go about it, though? It didn't take you long at all to get into the swing of it."

"Yes, well. I've seen plenty of it. Just, never tried it myself."

"What? Martin Blackwood watches kinky porn? Why I never!"

Martin tries to roll away in protest of being teased, but Tim has him secured. They fall asleep like that, tangled up together. 

**Author's Note:**

> hope you had fun~
> 
> there is a likelihood of this fic (and the previous) becoming part of a series... we'll see if i ever get around to writing part three ;j


End file.
